


light through a prism

by dansunedisco



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Meetings, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 14:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9186722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dansunedisco/pseuds/dansunedisco
Summary: Lukas' world explodes with color when he meets Philip.Or: Lukas, Philip, and the "you see color when you meet your soulmate" trope.-Written for Philkas Week, Day 2 - soulmates.





	

**Author's Note:**

> One of my all time fave tropes is "everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate" and so here we are. :')

“--don’t you think? … Lukas?”

Lukas snaps back to reality with a shake of his head. “What?”

Rose gives him a pointed look. “Soulmates. It’s super romantic, right? Meeting the one person meant for you, seeing all the colors all at once.” She’s looking at him like she wishes _he_ was that person for her and all he can offer her is a mild smile; _yup, I totally agree._

The girls in the bonfire circle sigh as a unit, and he and the rest of the guys waver, restless and unsure of the idea of romance as a whole.

To be honest, Lukas never really thought about it. Full-spectrum soulmates were rare. A statistical anomaly, according to his biology teacher. These days it’s more likely that a bunch of people in your life will bring tones and shades to you over time, bit by bit. Some red, blue, and yellow and a swirl of each together; a piecemeal expansion of your retinal cones. Some people never get the full array. Some people do. Some people like Lukas’ father get it all taken away like he did when Sally Waldenbeck passed away and drained his world of color. The true sign of a soulmate -- romantic, tragic.

Rose claims Lukas gave her sea glass blue. He lied and said neon green, the color of his engine cover; a color he’s been able to make out for years now. It makes him feel like an asshole sometimes, lying to Rose about it, but she looked so adamant when she asked him _do you, too?_ and it’s not like he _couldn’t_ see green. It just wasn’t her that sparked it.

He lies low for the rest of the night, sneaks back home after he makes sure Rose has a ride back to her place and drops unceremoniously face-first into his pillows. He wakes the next morning to a headache and his dad pounding on his door.

“Lukas,” his dad says, “time to get up. The fence won’t fix itself.”

Lukas groans in response. “Coming, Dad.”

His weekend passes in a gray blur of chores and homework and practice, all in that order. He has a race the next weekend over, and his dad is adamant about having a stand ready for the farmer’s market too. It’s exhausting, and he rolls into school on Monday later than usual.

By then, his friends have already amassed at the steps. Rose spots him and waves for him to join them. “Hey babe,” she greets, pressing up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek when he reaches her. “Did you hear? There’s a new kid in school.”

“From Queens,” Tommy jumps in.

“He’s living with Gabe and Sheriff Torrance,” Holly says.

Lukas tugs his backpack strap up higher over his shoulder and shifts on his feet, unsure if he should play his usual apathetic role or take an interest. “Cool, I guess,” he says, deciding on the former. Class doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes, but he doesn’t feel like hanging around to hear the gossip. His friends can decide if the new kid is worth bringing into the fold without his help. “I’ll see you guys later,” he says.

He goes to his locker and drops off a textbook or two, mind drifting to the race he needs to win later in the week. His time around the track was a full five seconds slower than before over the weekend -- he’s been pulling up on his jumps lately -- and he’s thinking of much-needed improvements when he turns around and knocks his shoulder right into someone else. They stumble and he reaches out automatically, fingers sinking into soft leather. A jolt of static snaps at his fingertips. He lets go.

It’s the new kid, he thinks. His eyes are brown and his lips are pouty and pink and parted, and Lukas goes hot and cold all over as he realizes what’s just happened. He can see _everything_ , the world bright and disorienting and new, and every thought that he’s been suppressing since he knew to suppress them bubbles to the surface with a pop. He looks down at his hands, sees the pale-pink of them, the light blue veins under his wrists. He looks back up. The colors are all there, every single one. Yellow _Shea_ in cursive, blue on white patches and forest green lettering and --

“I…” he trails off. “I don’t…?”

The new kid lets a whoosh of a breath, licks his bottom lip. Stares at Lukas like he’s the best things he’s seen all year. “I’m -- I’m Philip,” he says, and the sound of his voice is almost better than the color of his mouth.

He swallows, looks up and down the hall. It’s just the two of them. He can lie. He can play this off, tell this new kid -- _Philip -_ \- his reaction was a mistake, something else entirely. The two of them are not supposed-to-be, _did not_ discover this new world together. He should. He should, but he doesn’t want to. “Lukas,” he replies. Takes a deep breath and exhales. “I’m Lukas.”


End file.
